


can't contain this anymore

by louvia



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bookshop Owner Harry, Bottom Louis, British Harry, Car Sex, Condoms, Dominant Louis, Driver Louis, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Feelings, French Louis, Lube, M/M, One Shot, Paris (City), Porn With Plot, Power Bottom Louis, Riding, Rimming, Submissive Harry, Top Harry, Workaholic Harry, just a bit of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 12:56:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2851505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louvia/pseuds/louvia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis smiled, clearly happy with himself, and drove the car into a dark alley, as hidden from the eyes of the city as possible.<br/>"Aren't you supposed to have a gun when you rob someone?" Harry said in an attempt of sounding cheeky – he just sounded pathetic, really.<br/>"I do have a loaded gun, actually. In my pants."<br/>"God, you're horrible. Just come here already." </p><p>or</p><p>Harry goes on vacation and Louis is his driver and they end up having hot car sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	can't contain this anymore

**Author's Note:**

> Hii. I should start by saying that this is my very first attempt at writing smut, so please bare with me. Kudos to everyone for being so supportive. This was edited by Zoe (@MissLester_13), so a lot of thanks go to her for that. Thanks to Andreea for always pushing me back into writing and convincing me to keep on trying.  
> (even though I usually prefer top Louis, who doesn't love a power bottom?)  
> The title is taken from No control by One direction and the work is following this prompt: "Harry goes on vacation and Louis is his driver and they end up having hot car sex"

Saying that Harry Styles was a busy man was more than an understatement, judging by the amount of time he has spent in his bookshop since he had bought the business. He didn't mind it though, he rather enjoyed it. He loved every book, he loved every line and every verse of every page. "Books have souls", he would say. "They carry between their covers more than one could ever understand and trying to elucidate their meaning was simply beautiful." Harry considered himself very lucky, getting to spend all his days in an amazing place. A place that felt like home and smelled like fresh tea, cinnamon and old paper. A place surrounded by books that had yet to tell their story. He loved his shop and all the work that came with it.

"You need to go on a vacation," his sister, Gemma, said to him, on a foggy Saturday morning when the shop was nearly empty. She came in with two steamy cups of green vanilla tea, ready to listen to her brother's latest novel obsession. She’d read him a beautiful poem that she had randomly found somewhere, but she noticed how Harry seemed to be too focused on his work, so consumed by trying to find the right labeling for his books that he didn't even see her walking up to him. She dropped her initial intentions and decided to try and talk Harry into slowing things down.

Harry looked at Gemma, acknowledging her presence, but not her words, and murmured a simple "Oh, hi, Gem," before looking back to the books spread in front of him.

"Harry," Gemma tried again. "Are you even here or am I talking to myself?" Harry looked up again and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"What do you mean? Oh, you brought me tea, perfect." He got up and kissed his sister on the cheek, taking one cup from her hand and sipping it.

"Can't really have our usual chat today, got a lot to do." he mumbled, “These came in yesterday and they're all mixed up, a girl already asked for Paper Towns and it was sold out and I couldn't sell her this one because it wasn't properly labelled and did you know how many people are coming here asking for John Green? I really should dedicate a shelf to him, only then I'd have to take his books off their usual place and people could get confused and-"

"Dammit, Harry!" Gemma interrupted with an annoyed but soft look on her face. "You are worrying too much and you know it. How can doing this be good for you if it just stresses you out all the time?" Harry looked at her, sighing. This wasn't the first time Gemma told him the shop was taking over, but how could it not when it meant so much to him? He knew that people needed him to take care of this business. He couldn't just not open it for a few days, he couldn’t close it, not even one day, because it wouldn't be fair to anyone. Harry was attached to this place far too much for his heart to allow him to abandon it.

"Thank you for your concern, but I'm fine. I am stressed, yes, but I am also very content with what this job means. I can survive a bit of worrying," he half joked, but Gemma didn't seem to buy it.

"That settles it then, you're going on a vacation," she said after a short silence.

"Am not. You know I can't go anywhere. I can’t _afford_ to go anywhere."

"No, I know for a fact that you _will_ go, and you won't have to pay a thing."

"Right. And how are you going to get me to do that?"

"I'm offering you a trip to the most loved city in France, a place you've been wanting to go to ever since you were a little kid, so you can't really refuse me," she said with a smug smile. And Harry thought it just wasn't fair, because she knew how much Harry wanted to visit Paris, to hear the sweet Parisian French, to see the sun glowing down on the modern city making it look more majestic than it already was. It was so cruel of her to say such a thing when she knew how much Harry wanted it.

"Are you seriously offering to pay for my vacation to Paris, fucking _Paris_ , my dream place to go to, because I'm working too much? Does that even make sense?"

"Obviously. The money won't be a big deal to me considering that I'm earning much more money than you are from working twelve hours a day, so why not do a nice thing and buy you some relaxation?"

"Well, I would earn as much as you do if I had a pretty face for modelling. Mine isn't that special. And I doubt my hair would look good being dyed so many times."

"Excuse you, that's my brother whose face you're calling not special!" she chuckled. "And your curls would look good in any colour."

"I suppose they would," Harry laughed at the thought.

"So, dear brother, I take it you're accepting it?"

"I'm considering it. It's tempting, really, but what about the shop? Isn't it all this is about? How am I supposed to just leave it here?"

"Since I know you wouldn't trust a stranger enough to hire them and touch your precious books, I figured the best thing would be talking to the guys and taking turns at the shop. You will have to give us the assignments, most likely, and show us everything around here, but I'm certain we'd manage to handle things long enough for you to relax a bit."

Harry smiled at his sister, genuinely touched by her words. He loved her so much it was hard not to hug her. So he did.

"So... I'm going to Paris?" he asked and Gemma nodded. "You’re going to Paris."

The grin that appeared on Harry's face was so large that Gemma was concerned it was hurting his jaw.

 

And this is how, nine days later, Harry was feeling excitement pulsing through his veins and happiness radiating through his skin, looking in the huge crowd of people around him for the person that was supposed to pick him up after getting off of the plane.

He looked rather comical while walking with his suitcase and almost tripping, because a tall British man with long, out of control curls and an oversized dimple on his left cheek, wearing a colourful large shirt that had too many buttons undone to be considered decent, black ripped skinny jeans and brown leather boots was not something you'd expect to see on an airport in Paris. It was definitely not something Louis Tomlinson expected to see, but who was he to judge?

Louis had been standing in the airport for ten minutes and he had already witnessed a few less than ordinary things, like a girl wearing a wedding dress and make-up spread all over her face, running in her heals to catch a plane, an old lady kissing her dog on the mouth and a girl slapping her boyfriend after they've been snogging for at least five minutes straight. There wasn't anything too odd about that tall clumsy guy that seemed to be a few years younger than him, nothing about him was so special that Louis should be mesmerised by him. And yet, he was looking at him like he was. He was looking at him like he was hypnotised by his weird, mysterious allure. It wasn't until the boy started waving his hands towards him he remembered he was holding the "Mister Styles" sign. Louis guessed that that was probably the name of the boy in front of him. He’d of been lying if he said he wasn't surprised by that; he thought he would be picking up some important businessman in a suit, not an awkward guy that was definitely different than the people he usually drives. But he surely liked the change. He smiled to himself before walking up to the fidgeting boy.

Harry was taken back when he spotted a sign saying Mister Styles. Since Gemma told him to look for his name, he was looking for a Harry. He stopped in his tracks and looked around, but didn't really spot anyone that looked like a _Mister Styles_ , so he assumed that was indeed the car that was supposed to drive him to the hotel.

Leaving his surprise behind, he was glad he finally found his sign, but all of those happy feelings vanished when he took a look at the man waiting for him. He was gorgeous. He was one of most alluring human beings he has ever been in contact with - he was a short, fit but curvy person, with slightly tanned skin. He had light brown hair that Harry really wanted to touch, light stubble on his face and beautiful eyes that were looking right at him. When Harry realised he was being watched he started waving, feeling self-conscious and hoping the man didn't catch him staring. But the man only smiled and reached for his bag.

"Hello, my name is Louis and I will be driving you tonight," he said taking Harry's suitcase. "You may follow me to the car."

If Harry thought he was screwed before, now he realised he was royally fucked. His driver, Louis, was even prettier standing two feet away from him. His perfume smelled so expensive and his walk was so elegant he wondered how on earth he was real. Were all the people from France like this? Did they all speak English like they were tasting the words and did all of their voices sound like smooth velvet? Harry may never know.

"I'm Harry, by the way," he caught himself saying.

"Harry", Louis said, trying to pronounce it right. It sounded so perfect when the French man said it, like he was born to say his name. Harry wanted to hear him moaning it.

"You have a lovely name," Louis continued, "but I guess your lover respects you very much since she opted to call you 'mister'."

Harry blushed and, in any other circumstances, he would have laughed at someone assuming his sister was his girlfriend. Instead, he just said "That was not my girlfriend, it was my sister, actually." Then he quickly added:

"I'm gay."

He stopped walking when he realised what just came out of his mouth. It wasn't the first time he had said it - he was out of the closet - and he was not ashamed to admit it either, but he knew better than saying it to people he's just met. He didn't knew how open-minded Louis was and how much the confession could cost him. When Louis stopped walking and turned his body towards Harry, his heart was beating rather fast.

Louis didn't seem to be mad or disgusted, though, since he was smiling when he said "Are you, now?"

Harry exhaled quickly, then realised his palms where sweating and his thoughts were a tangled mess in his head, so he couldn't settle on an answer other than "Yes, um, I think so. I mean, I know so. Yeah. I am."

Louis laughed softly.

"I am too, if that makes you feel any less awkward," the blue eyed man said, then winked. He actually winked. Oh, it was getting interesting.

"Any stops before we reach the hotel, Harry?" asked Louis before opening the car door for the younger boy to climb in.

If Harry had to be honest, he was really tired. He wanted to get to his room and sleep so he would have enough energy for tomorrow when his vacation would officially start. Although right now his biggest worry was how he could spend as much time as possible with Louis, so instead he asked him if he could tour the city on the way to his hotel. Louis just smirked before accepting.

The drive was utterly silent for the first minutes and Harry felt really awkward. Earlier it seemed as if Louis was flirting with him - has he misinterpreted his actions? He started tapping his fingers on the window, anxious, not really looking at the beautiful places outside. Harry didn't care about them. He cared about his beautiful driver more.

"You don't really seem interested," Louis pointed out. "We're only a few minutes away from getting to the hotel."

"I, uh, sorry, I was distracted," said Harry after clearing his throat.

 "Why are you always stuttering? Between the two of us, aren't you the one who's been hearing this language everyday ever since he was in his mother's womb? Wait, do babies even hear before they are born or is that a myth?"

Harry found himself fascinated with Louis high picked, yet manly voice. It was oddly arousing and Harry didn't want him to ever shut up.

"I don't know, I must have missed last night's episode of "Fun facts with fetuses". And I'm remarkably eloquent, thank you very much. You just make me anxious, you petit French man."

"Did you just call me short? I have the average height of a man my age," Louis said in faux-shock.

The green eyed boy giggled.

"Average height of a kitten, maybe. How old are you with that body anyways, twelve?"

"Styles, I'm warning you."

"I see I've touched a soft spot, then."

"Oh, I'd rather you touched a different kind of spot in my body. With a certain part of your body."

Harry was sure he was only saying this to make the situation as uncomfortable as possible, but images were already floating in his head and blood started rushing down.

"You said I make you feel anxious. Why is that?", the driver continued and Harry could have sworn his voice was much deeper now. "Is it my twelve year-old-like body? Do you want to wreck it?"

"Stop making me look like a pedophile," Harry cried.

"So you do want it."

“Isn't it obvious? Who wouldn't want that?"

Louis smiled, clearly happy with himself. He drove the car into a dark alley, as hidden from the eyes of the city as possible.

"Aren't you supposed to have a gun when you rob someone?" Harry said in an attempt of sounding cheeky – he just sounded pathetic, really.

"I do have a loaded gun, actually. In my pants."

"God, you're horrible. Just come here already."

Harry couldn't wait another moment without kissing the life out of Louis; he was ready to get out and drag the man into the back of the car himself. Luckily, his physical powers weren't required since Louis threw a bottle of lube and a condom in his lap before joining him in the back seat.

"Should I be worried that you keep this kind of stuff in your glovie?"

"Dear Harold, you shall not worry. I'm not a sex addict nor a rent boy. I just have nothing better to store in the glove compartment."

"But you're still willing to have sex with a man you've known for less than an hour. How can I trust you?" Harry said even though his body was aching with desire.

"You say it like it wasn't you undressing me with your eyes the whole time I was driving. Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to focus? No pun intended."

"Fuck it," Harry said and kissed him roughly. "Do we even have enough space here?"

"I'm sure we can find a position that works", Louis said rather cheekily. "Are you a top, Harry?" he asked after a few minutes of snogging and dry-rubbing off each other.

"Usually not," Harry said painting, "but with that arse of yours... We can do it any way you want, though-"

"It's okay love, I wanted to ride you anyways." Louis said looking at Harry with lust. "But not before I eat you out till you cry and beg me to come," he whispered in Harry's ear, with a casual tone someone would use when talking about the weather. Biting his earlobe gently, he added: "Would you like that, baby?" 

"Yes," Harry croaked out. The thoughts of being inside of Louis and being rimmed for the first time, mixed with the emotions the pet name were causing, were making him unable to communicate.

"What was that? Didn't hear you," Louis said tugging on one of Harry's curls.

"Yes. Yes, please," Harry said louder, more confident.

"Are you gonna be a good boy for me?"

"Yes, I'll be a good boy, I promise, just do something, Louis, please!" It was probably embarrassing to beg like this but his cock was getting incredibly hard, and he only had one soul.

"You are so polite."

“Please-“

"Shh, it's okay, baby. I've got you," Louis said and started to undo Harry's impossibly tight jeans, kissing him slowly.

After Louis got him fully undressed - a task which was difficult to accomplish, taking into consideration their location - he pushed Harry further into the backrest, spreading his legs as wide as possible, and started kissing his thighs.

 "Hope you showered today."

Harry wanted to say _of course I showered, who do you think I am_ , but Louis had so much power over him already that he couldn't possibly say anything like that to him. He also promised he'd be a good boy. And good boys don't talk back.

 "I did. I'm clean."

Louis hummed in approval and slowly nuzzled his head closer to Harry's arse. Almost teasing him, making the younger boy feel his stubble on his skin. Harry didn't know he had a thing for beard-burn, he didn't even know if getting beard-burn _was_ a thing, but he surely enjoyed feeling Louis' stubble slightly scratching him. It scratched just enough so the amount of pain it caused was the best kind of pain he has ever felt (well, maybe except from the sensation he had when he fingered himself for the first time). All his thoughts were interrupted when Louis started kissing his hole, a bit hesitantly. And well, Harry could feel fireworks everywhere. Being rimmed felt even better than he had imagined. He couldn't possibly understand how some little kisses could get him so worked up. It made him completely hard and he was losing all his control. It only got worse when Louis started licking his rim, making the process very wet and messy and so hot. He had no idea if Louis enjoyed doing it or simply liked the way Harry was breaking in from of him, but he couldn't care less. He was allowed to be a bit selfish when there was a gorgeous older man between his thighs, spreading his arsecheeks and grabbing them roughly while eating him out.

It got even more intense when Louis actually got his tongue in.

It was just the tip at first, probably just to see how Harry would react to it. And the reaction was so beautiful - his whole body froze, all his moans and whines stopped. He just gasped for a few seconds before cursing loudly and begging Louis to do that again, tears starting to stream down his face.

"I will do it again, baby, you're so good, so beautiful for me. Fuck, I wish you could see how pretty and pink your hole is. And how wrecked you seem. Oh, you are so amazing, being so good, Harry."

Harry felt incredibly proud. He never realised it before, but he loved being praised, he loved pleasing and behaving and earning beautiful words from his dominant partner. Discovering that he had a submissive side was important, and he know that the back of a car in Paris, with a man he just met, was not the ideal scene for it, but he didn't regret it. He was just happy he could be a good boy. A good boy for Louis.

When he felt Louis fucking him with his tongue, he started getting closer to his orgasm, so he raised his hand to touch his neglected cock that was beautifully curved and resting on his thigh, leaking precum. Louis was paying attention to him, though, even though his head was buried in Harry's arse, so he quickly slapped his hand away.

"None of that. You will come untouched, from my tongue only, or you won't come at all."

Harry whined, but not because it was not fair. It truly wasn't, but he wasn't really bothered by it - he wasn't annoyed at Louis, but at himself because he knew it would be a difficult task to accomplish and it would be hard for him. He saw a few videos of boys coming untouched, but that was just porn. This was real life. His real life that felt very surreal, but still his real life.

"I'm not-I'm not sure I can. I think I can try, but-"

"I think you can do it. I also think that I haven't done a very good job since you can still pronounce coherent words." And with that, he dove back in, but this time more aggressively, biting, licking and pointing his tongue, making it all messy and unpredictable. It felt so good and wet from all the saliva that it only took Harry a few seconds before making a high-pitched, strangled noise and coming all over his abdomen. He didn't even feel it building up, he just felt so good that he burst, forgetting how to breathe. By the finally managed to steady his breath and wipe his tears, Louis was looking at him so fondly he couldn't wrap his head around it.

 "How are you feeling, baby?"

 "Mind-blown. Amazing. I just. Fuck." He really didn't know what else to say, still feeling the aftershocks and still not believing that he actually came without anyone touching his dick.

"I'm going to ride you now." Only then Harry noticed that Louis was no longer wearing pants and had a finger in his arse, fucking himself confidently.

Harry's dick twitched in interest and it started to harden again. When his eyes actually scanned Louis' lap, he found out he had a long, thick cock, with a prominent vein and not a single pubic hair, that made his mouth water. He was in love.

"I wanna suck you," he said, sounding so desperate.

"You'll take what I give you, okay? And right now, I wanna sit on your cock. Does that sound good? It's my only offer."

Moaning helplessly was the only thing he could do, but Louis understood and kissed him before lubing up his fingers and opening himself up, putting on a show for Harry. After a while he added a second finger, but told Harry he wants to feel his cock stretching him so he didn’t add a third. Harry almost came just from hearing that. But he didn't, of course. He couldn't disobey Louis like that.

So he tries to stay still while watching Louis beautifully riding his finders with no sign of discomfort on his face, only pure content. He had his head thrown back and his eyes closed. He stopped after a few minutes and pulled Harry as down as possible, spreading his legs even wider and crawled between them. He put the condom carefully and lubed him up slowly, hesitantly.

"It's been a while."

"You can fuck me instead, I don't care, let's just do something... I haven't had sex in so long and you're so hot I can't wait any longer," he rambled pathetically.

Louis pecked him on the lips to shut him up and lifted himself up, guiding Harry's cock to his rim.

"Do you think you can stay still and let me do the work? Because you're one of the very few who gets to put their dick in me, so you have to prove to me you deserve it. Just be a good boy, okay? Make me proud."

 Harry was about to answer, but then Louis finally got the tip in and Harry forgot everything. He forgot about his bookshop and all the worries about it; he forgot that he was supposed to call Gemma the moment he got off the plane. He forgot he was in a car in Paris and that if someone happened to pass by, they would most likely see the two boys having sex. He forgot it all.

Feeling the warm velvet-like walls of Louis' arse enveloping him, he put his hands on Louis' tiny waist, without moving him at all. He knew it was probably hard for Louis to bottom, since he was moving so slowly, but Harry tried his best and didn't thrust up nor pushed Louis down. He knew that was not something he could do. It was also weird how he acted like Louis was his dominant, his lover, and that disappointing him would be the worst thing in this world. He knew it was foolish to imagine that this would be more than a one night stand, because a relationship between the two of them would never work. It was nice to give himself completely, to pretend there was something more and to trust him enough to let him control not only his orgasm, but all of his actions. It was nice, after how stressful his life had been recently, to let go of it all and just enjoy the moment.

When Louis finally got it all the way in, he took a few deep breaths and kissed Harry, being pressed so close together they were basically hugging, and somehow it had turned from hot into very intimate, but neither of them seemed to mind.

When Louis finally adjusted, he started moving his hips in slow circles, and even though he was trying not to show it, he was very nervous. Harry saw that and looked him in the eyes, somehow being able to communicate with sweet glances only, and understood that Louis was feeling vulnerable.

"You still got all the power," he whispered to him. He wasn't sure of what was happening but he had a feeling that, for Louis, being in control wasn't only about the sexual part of it, it was much more, and if he lost his authority even for a second, it would fuck his feelings up. That's why Harry wasn't moving his body - to show his submission and assure Louis that he was still controlling everything. It was almost funny how attached he got, so much and so fast…

Louis gained his confidence back after a few seconds, though, and he silently thanked Harry by smiling him sweetly. Louis then starting to bounce on his cock like his life depended on it. He looked so beautiful like that, riding Harry and gasping shortly every time he lowered himself, never breaking the eye contact.

"Doing so well- ah, being so good, fuck." Harry honestly felt like he wasn't deserving any praise, in fact, he should have been the one telling Louis how great he was doing, but he nodded and kept on grunting because the pleasure he was feeling was so intense, and after so long of having nothing but his own hand, it felt like heaven.

Louis must have found the spot because his high-pitched voice was suddenly even higher and he started blubbering nonsense, telling Harry how good he felt, that he was so big and made him feel so full.

"I'm close, Louis, I'm close-"

"Not before I do," he managed to say and kept on moving his hips in a fanatic rhythm, chasing his orgasm. It took less than a half a minute and a few fast pumps to get him to come hard on his stomach. He didn't stop riding Harry, though, and that made Harry’s mind go fuzzy. When he finally got back from his high, he told him:

“Come for me, baby." These words were enough to make him shot his load in the condom, biting Louis' shoulder. 

"Well, um... That was fun," he cheekily said after calming down.

"Shut up, I forgot how good that feels. Why don't I do it more often?" Louis said panting.

"You're a great power bottom, babe. You did that job quite well."

"You probably didn't expect to have so much fun in Paris, huh?"

"I've always wanted to come here but trust me, if I knew this was expecting me, I would have been here years ago."

Louis giggled and his eyes were sparkling so beautifully, Harry could feel himself starting to fall in love, this time for real. That moment he knew he was fucked.

 

And yet, one year later, when Louis entered his bookshop, after not keeping in touch at all, they realised that perhaps it was fate that brought them together in the first place and that they should give their love a chance. And so they did.

**Author's Note:**

> Couldn't help myself from adding a super cliché happy ending there. Sorry. But thank you for reading! Feel free to leave kudos/comments or tweet me at @indielivia. x


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